Romulus had seen Brennus many times since his arrival in the ludus but had never spoken to him. The big Gaul and Astoria both seemed friendly and they certainly did not inspire the kind of hatred that welled up when he thought of Lentulus. Fists clenched, he prayed they had not been killed.
Relief filled him as Brennus emerged stark naked, blood running from his wounds. He was followed by Flavus, holding Astoria by the throat.
'Help me kill the Gaul!' The murmillo peered into the darkness, hoping to see gladiators who would come to his aid. 'We can all have his whore!'
'The first one who comes near gets his throat cut,' Brennus said calmly.
Nobody moved. In the ludus' unwritten rules, grudges like this usually had to be settled by those involved.
His voice shaking, Flavus called out to two fighters. 'Figulus! Gallus! Fight with me!' The pair shifted from foot to foot, deeply tempted by the attractive Nubian. It had been months since they had been with a woman, but the sight of Brennus with a bloodied sword arrested further action.
Astoria sobbed quietly.
Romulus' heart pounded in his chest. Despite the noise, there was no sign of Memor yet. Should he get involved? It took only a moment to decide. The invitation to gang-rape the girl had filled him with disgust. Velvinna had never revealed the exact circumstances of their conception, but she had hinted at it. And the merchant had forced himself on her night after night. In Romulus' mind, rape was a crime of the worst order.
He tiptoed towards Flavus' unprotected back, gently easing the dagger from his belt. Nobody spotted him. Rage replaced the disgust as he stole within striking range. Flavus was like those who had raped his mother. An anonymous noble. Gemellus.
Dirty bastards. The murmillo was oblivious, still pleading with Figulus and Gallus to join him.
Romulus took a deep breath, knuckles whitening. He stepped in close, grabbing Flavus' left shoulder tightly and pushed the thin blade through his tunic to break the skin.
'Let the girl go!'
Flavus froze.
'Release her,' he hissed.
'Romulus?' The murmillo's voice was incredulous. 'This has nothing to do with you. Now piss off before this bitch gets herself killed.' He poked Astoria with his knife and she screamed.
Brennus took a step forward.
'Stay where you are!' roared Flavus.
Glowering, the Gaul moved back.
Blood pounded in Romulus' ears as he took in the dramatic sight of Brennus and the circle of gladiators. Every face was watching them. In front of Flavus, Astoria's shoulders shook with fear.
'I'll give you one more chance.'
'This is men's business,' spat Flavus. 'Walk away before you get hurt. Badly hurt.'
Backing off was not an option. He had no choice. Stab high up under the ribcage. Cotta's advice echoed in Romulus' mind. Cut the liver – it is always fatal.
With a quick shove, Romulus shoved his dagger deep into Flavus' right side, twisting as it went in. The murmillo shrieked as he felt the thrust, and his grip on Astoria fell away. She ran sobbing to Brennus. Romulus pulled the blade free and Flavus staggered round, eyes glazed. A large area of his tunic turned bright red, the cloth filling with blood.
Flavus' face held a look of total disbelief.
Silently, Romulus stabbed him once in the chest and stood back as the murmillo collapsed, his strength evaporating. He jerked a few times and was still.
Romulus gazed down in fascination at the first man he had killed. Then his stomach lurched and both legs began to wobble.
'You have my thanks.'
Romulus sensed Brennus looming above him. He nodded, suppressing the urge to vomit.
It was then that Lentulus emerged from the cell, half stunned but still clutching his sword. He saw Romulus standing over Flavus' body and gave an inarticulate cry of rage. Hoisting the weapon with a shaking hand, he weaved towards them.
Instinctively Romulus bent to retrieve his knife.
'Hold!' Memor's voice cut in. 'Next man who moves, dies!'
Everyone froze as the lanista pushed his way through to stand before Brennus. He was flanked by six guards with drawn bows.
'Trying to butcher everyone in the damn ludus?'
'What was I supposed to do?' Brennus scowled at the Goth, the only survivor. 'The bastards were going to rape Astoria.'
Memor snorted. 'And how many men are dead because of that black bitch?'
'Three.' Lentulus nursed the side of his head, bruised from the Gaul's punch.
'Three?' the lanista screeched.
'Curtius, Titus and Flavus.'
Memor's mouth opened and closed. The murmillones had been prize fighters.
'Anyone who touches my woman dies,' said Brennus.
'Lay a finger on another man and I'll have you crucified.' Memor was incandescent with rage. 'You might be the best gladiator here, but you are still a fucking slave!'
The Gaul's fist bunched around the hilt of his sword.
Memor gestured quickly. The archers drew back, iron-tipped arrows pointing at Brennus' heart.
Astoria screamed.
Brennus' hand dropped to his side. 'I'm not going to commit suicide to satisfy you.'
'You have some brains left, then,' replied Memor, his voice taut with anger. 'I have a good idea.' He pointed at Romulus and Lentulus. 'These two look like they aren't on best terms. They might as well settle that. At dawn tomorrow. A duel to the death. Right here in the yard.'
The pair stared at each other.
Lentulus repeated the stabbing motion. Romulus hawked and spat. The Goth made to launch himself forward, then paused.
'Go right ahead,' said Memor. 'One archer might miss, but at this range, four . . .'
Lentulus grimaced and sheathed his sword. Content that he had won the confrontation, Romulus turned away.
The morning might prove different.
'Fucking great ox.' The lanista glared at Brennus. 'No excursions into the city till further notice. You're barred from the baths as well.'
The Gaul shrugged. He waited in case there was more.
Memor jerked his head in dismissal. 'Piss off. Before I think of a better punishment.'
Brennus obeyed. He was not worried about Memor and his threats. Astoria was a far greater concern. There had been too many men who seemed interested in Flavus' offer.
Chapter VII: The Lupanar
The Lupanar Brothel, Rome, 56 BC
Fabiola gazed uncertainly at the bare walls. The small cell was where the madam had led her after Gemellus had been thrown on to the street. The huge man who ejected him had smiled toothlessly at the new girl in an effort to seem reassuring.
The attempt had not worked. One violent master appeared to have been replaced by another.
Apart from the low bed she was sitting on, the only furniture was an empty chest and a tiny statue of a naked Aphrodite in the corner. The room smelt musty, but the floor had been washed and the worn woollen bedclothes were clean.
Fabiola hunched up in a ball, hands round her feet, rocking backwards and forwards. The manner in which she and Romulus had been ripped from Velvinna had severely dented her usual confidence, usually not even affected by Gemellus' beatings. Fabiola was terrified to think that she would never see her family again. Romulus was in mortal danger, if not dead already. Gods alone knew what would become of their mother.
For a short time the grief became all consuming. She was alone, sold to a brothel, with no chance of escape and could only imagine what would happen to her now. Silent sobs racked her. Soon complete strangers would be paying to have sex with her. Bile rose in Fabiola's throat. She felt degraded already.
It was all because of Gemellus.
The thought helped the tears disappear and a spark flared deep inside.
No weakness, only strength. No grief, just revenge.
Gemellus.
Women's laughter echoed in the corridor and Fabiola listened intently as they passed by. She might learn something useful.
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' . . . told him he was the best lover I had ever been with. The fool swelled with pride!'
'Get a tip?'
'An aureus, no less.' There was a loud cackle and the pair passed out of earshot.
Fabiola sat up on the bed, mind racing. There was money to be made here. The aureus was more than she'd ever held in her hand. And the Lupanar seemed to be full of beautiful women of every race, clad in robes and dresses that left nothing to the imagination. Flimsy garments, intricate head-dresses and exotic jewellery filled her with wonder. In all Fabiola's years at Gemellus' house, she had never owned more than one threadbare shift. It was a small consolation to have been sold into the best brothel in Rome. But that thought was followed immediately, guiltily, by the memory of the scene when Gemellus had dragged her away, only a short time before. When Velvinna had realised he intended to fulfil his promise of selling Fabiola as well, her distress had partially overcome her fear of the merchant.
'Please, Master. Leave me one child!'
'This little beauty is worth far more than the brat.' Gemellus leered at Fabiola's curves. 'I'd fuck her myself if it didn't halve the value.'
'I'll do anything,' Velvinna wailed. 'Even make noise when you take me.'
'As if I'd bother! Used-up old whore,' Gemellus sneered. 'The salt mines are the only place for you.'
The salt mines? There was a heartbeat's shock. She had nothing left to lose. Velvinna threw both arms around the merchant's legs, weeping hysterically.
'Get off, or I'll sell you today as well!' He viciously pried tight fingers loose, throwing Velvinna to the stone floor.
The slight figure lay prone, sobs racking her body.
Gemellus laughed.
It was Fabiola's last sight of her mother. She had been dragged from the room and hauled away to the Lupanar. More tears flowed. Life seemed cruel beyond belief. But the self-pity did not last very long. Fabiola's spirit burned too fiercely to succumb, and Velvinna's oft-repeated advice rang in her ears: Make the best of every situation. Always.
Calming herself, Fabiola clenched her fists into the coarse wool bedclothes and offered a fervent prayer to the gods.
Protect Mother and Romulus.
Just an hour before, Fabiola had been gazing with wide, frightened eyes at the walls in the brothel's lavish reception area. Satyrs, fat cupids, gods and goddesses returned her stare from a brightly coloured landscape covered in rivers, caves and forests. On another surface were numbered depictions of sexual positions that customers might desire. Fabiola had shuddered, imagining Gemellus forcing her to perform the more outlandish ones. In the centre of the mosaic floor was a life-size statue of a naked woman entwined with a swan.
'Eight thousand sestertii,' mused Gemellus. 'Not a bad price.'
'That's what we agreed.' Jovina, the old madam, pursed painted lips in disapproval. Beady eyes shone from the powdered whiteness of her face.
Gemellus, well pleased, clutched the leather purse tightly to his chest.
'I know. What a little beauty.' He reached over, allowing himself a good feel of Fabiola's small breasts. She flinched in horror, but did not dare move away.
The merchant's hand dropped lower, searching for the hem of her tunic.
'No touching. She 's mine now.'
He removed his hand resentfully.
Fabiola looked at the floor, cheeks burning.
Gemellus smirked. 'A few moments alone might be worth it,' he said, hefting the money bag.
'It will cost. She 's a virgin, you know.' Jovina revealed decaying teeth. After many years at the Lupanar, men like Gemellus were easy to spot. She twisted a ring on a thin finger, watching the ruby catch the light. The crone carried a fortune on both hands, presents from satisfied customers. Jovina's services – and her discretion – were famous.
Fabiola shuddered at the memory of the examination that had just been performed to confirm her virginal status. She felt ashamed and violated. The madam's prodding fingers still burned her skin.
'Of course I know!' Gemellus snapped. 'By Jupiter, I resisted the urge to take the vixen for long enough.' He licked moist lips. 'How much for a night?'
Jovina placed a claw-like hand on the girl's head. The slight pressure made Fabiola feel remarkably protected.
'Fifteen thousand sestertii.'
'Fifteen thousand?' The merchant's eyes bulged. 'Nearly twice what you just paid!'
'Virgins like her are hard to come by,' Jovina replied sarcastically. 'Noble customers pay well for the first time with such a beauty.'
Gemellus was purple with rage.
'Come back in a few weeks and the price will only be three or four thousand.' Jovina's lips twitched. 'Per hour, of course.'
'Old whore!' the merchant yelled, bunching his fists.
'Benignus!'
An enormous slave with thick gold bands round both wrists emerged from a side room. Gemellus took in the bulging muscles and metal-studded club.
'This gentleman is leaving.' Jovina pointed. 'Escort him to the door.'
Benignus towered over Gemellus. There was no doubt who was in authority here.
He paused, even now reluctant to obey a slave.
'Master.' The hulk had taken Gemellus' right arm in a grip of iron and he felt himself being propelled towards the entrance. A powerful shove landed the merchant in the dirt outside, at the feet of two of his waiting slaves. Quickly they helped him up, their faces studiously blank.
Benignus loomed over him like a Greek colossus. 'Next time, Madam will require evidence that you have sufficient funds to enter.'
The passers-by laughed at the carefully worded insult. They'd seen many people ejected from the arched doorway for the same reason.
Gemellus angrily brushed away the dirt and stalked off, his leather purse gripped tightly in one hand. It would keep the moneylenders at bay for a while.
Jovina knocked just once as she opened the door, startling Fabiola. The madam took in her reddened eyes at a glance. Many girls like this had entered the brothel. She walked in, still appraising her new purchase.
Fabiola met the look, chin trembling faintly.
'Forget the past, my dear,' Jovina said in a friendly but firm manner. 'Coming here saved you from Gemellus' advances at least. Life here can be good. It's simple. Learn how to work the customers well and satisfy them every time. Many powerful men visit the Lupanar. Senators, magistrates, tribunes. We 've even had consuls in here before.'
Fabiola nodded. It was important she learn quickly and make friends with the old woman.
Jovina paused for a moment. 'Is the fat man your father?'
'Gemellus?' Fabiola stared at the floor. 'No, Madam.'